The week began slowly and with bad weather, weather that doesn't believe our local, regional Groundhog that spring is on its way. either that, or spring and winter had a wretched break-up and winter wants to make sure we don't forget before spring shows up and makes everything pretty again. but spring around here means headaches and allergies, rain storms that make no sense and tornado season starts anew. it means the smell of dirt and plants growing up through death and decay, it means the constant fear of the late frost, like last year's, the kind that killed all of the little apple buds which meant that the nebraskans were snacking on apples from michigan during our apple season. it's the kind of thing that makes you question your own need to be isolated and superior.

the male cat has become my nursemaid, watching me carefully as i ease my overly sore and battered body into and out of bed. he treads around me under my blankets and doesn't complain when i grab him for a cuddle. his sister is pissed that there is still plastic on the windows - she needs to see outside, to know that the world is more than a hallway with a bed at one end and a view at the other.

i appreciate the attention he pays. it is slightly odd, because i've had dogs as nursemaids before, but most of the cats i've lived with have been more concerned with my mental well-being than my physical. i guess that's what happens when you crack your tail-bone these days. Hunh.

I've said it many times before, but I feel very fortunate to be living in what is this medium's real Golden Age. There may not be a single touchstone work like Maus or Watchmen, but between Scott Pilgrim and Punisher and Fun Home and Fell and Exit Wounds and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and Perry Bible Fellowship and All-Star Superman and Usagi Yojimbo and Ultimate Spider-Man and Tokyopop's Planetes and Acme Novelty Library and Scalped and The Walking Dead and Buffy and Criminal and The Three Paradoxes and Dynamo 5 and Green Lantern and DMZ and Optic Nerve and The Killer and Persepolis and Shaolin Cowboy and Kick-Ass and Super Spy and Queen & Country and Chance in Hell and Abandon the Old in Tokyo and Daredevil... that's seriously just off the very top of my bald head. I've forgotten more good books than I can remember. Has there ever been a better era to be reading comics? Ever?

Thanks to Brian for recommending Doktor Sleepless, Narcopolis, and other Avatar books over the years.

I spent most of this morning drinking a sub-par mocha, and sketching in one of my numerous sketchbooks. The sketchbook pictured is one sent me by my friend Kat, and it's becoming home for sketches and doodles based on one of our projects, holding the previously mentioned sketch of Merrick, the Elephant Man. The small child previously mentioned, and her dad weren't there, but some friends were.

Back to the sketchbook. I prefer tough, heavier-weight paper, with a smooth finish. I like something that doesn't feel like it'll fall apart by looking at it- and I cannot stand drawing on newsprint, finding the thin paper's texture and weight distasteful to my sense of touch. I like Bristol with the smoother finish, because it soaks up the ink well, and I don't have to worry about ink bleeding through, or the paper wrinkling that much.

I've been itching to post an entry here for a while, but I've been struggling for inspiration. Until a special email landed in my office inbox today:

Subject: Invitation to attend Explosives Awareness Course

Oh yes.

In the current climate of global terrorism there is a need for UK-based management-level personnel to be offered exposure to explosives, weapons, bombs and their blast effect and to take part in a live range day.

Funnily enough, I can already think of some management-level personnel who could do with being exposed to bombs and their blast effects. Mind you, "live range day" does sound pretty awesome. Pray continue, senór Unsolicited Email...

The outcome of attendance on the course will enable delegates to be better informed about explosives and their effects, together with an enhanced understanding of terrorist use of improvised explosive devices.

That's all very well, but you're not really telling me anything that I can't already find in The Anarchist Cookbook...

Delegates will be better placed to make sound judgment in future management roles or where such experience will aid a decision-making process.

The ability to recognise improvised explosive devices will help my CEO make better decisions? Riiight. You know, if I hadn't already read about the Koreans faking their own deaths to boost productivity, this would be the strangest management retreat I've ever heard of.

Stuff it. I know I'm just a glorified receptionist, but I've spent the past half hour lobbying the office bigwigs to try and get me a place on this thing, if only because it might bring me one step closer to fulfilling my dream of being Keanu Reeves in Speed. (Or to a lesser extent, Jeff Bridges in Blown Away)

Feeling like a sudden change of pace. This was taken in Blodgette Canyon, in the Bitterroot Valley of Montana. A little bit south of Missoula. It's where I grew up. That's me at the bottom of that massive freakin' arch. This was my first encounter with the art of bushwhacking, or choosing a point off in the distance and heading for it. I have to say that after five or so hours of aimless wandering, attempting to climb creeks that could have been considered waterfalls, wondering why the hell we didn't bring any water*or lunch* and more than a few cuts and bruises that it's well worth it. I've never seen anything so massive and imposing. But then again, I've never seen the Grand Canyon, but I feel like that would be a bit more like "ohshitohshiti'mgoingtofallin"

I've been having a bunch of angry dreams lately, so I decided I must not be listening to the right kind of music. all day I've been feeding stuff into Winamp as it struck my fancy. this is what I came up with:

Witch Doctor is a forthcoming medical horror comic from writer Brandon Seifert and artist Lukas Ketner. Witch Doctor combines horror archetypes and really sick shit from the real world. This is the book's workblog. For more information, read the first entry.

So yesterday I said Workblog #5 would talk about the effects of the Red Queen's Race when a host species' traditional parasites are suddenly removed... but then Lukas sent me the finished version of the first Witch Doctor pin-up, the one I posted a preview of last week. And it's so totally stunning I had to share it instead.

That sound you just heard was me leveling up as a comics creator. Damn. Lukas does good work.

I'm not sure why people think it is a good idea to let me near their small children. Certainly, I don't, but this hasn't stopped the parents of 5-6 year olds from having me babysit their kids, nor the kids from throwing tantrums when I have to leave.

Part of this may be because I draw. Kids love drawings. Kids love it when you can draw puppies and kitties on request. Parents seem to think that because I can draw puppies, kitties and winged moose (shush, they are cute), that all my drawings are kid-okay; so I've dealt with adults looking at my sketchbook quickly then passing it to their kids while I go "Er- You don't want to do that".

Which lead to me trying to explain the story of Merrick, the elephant man, over coffee, to a four year old this morning. The kid seemed to understand what I was getting at: The guy was deformed and sickly, but just because he looked weird, it didn't mean he was a bad person, and somehow that turned into a segue for what color push-pops were good, and how green was a good flavor, even if it was an 'icky color' and how the kid's dad's favorite color was chartreuse. The dad seemed pleased with the discussion, and the fact that I was paying attention to the kid.

"Mark Dixie admitted he had sex with Sally Anne Bowman as she lay in a pool of blood on her driveway, but said she was already dead, Brian Altman, prosecuting, told the court."

First let's set the scene here... A dead body is found, the girl had been victim of a violent rape and had been stabbed to death. Stabbed to death in the neck and chest. Stabbed so hard the knife came out the other side.

They proved this guy had sex with her. They had various examples of DNA, his teeth marks all over the body and his fingerprint in blood on her shoe. He couldn't have left more evidence even if he had a friend video it and uploaded it to YouTube.

Fair cop, you'd think. Just accept your fate. You've fucked up and it's time to face the music?

No. The best thing, of course, is to claim that you chanced across the mutilated dead body lying in a pool of most of it's blood and then thought to yourself, 'Well, another opportunity like this won't come along...." and had sex with the corpse.

It might work... I mean, it's worth a try. The judge may just say 'Well, why didn't you say so earlier? Case dismissed.' and let him go. If anyone is going to understand how tempting the cold, blood-smeared corpse of an eighteen year old girl is then it is going to be a judge after all.

Also, he was a chef.... He could have at least cleaned up after himself and made her into a Spaghetti Bolognese or Chilli Con Carne. She was a model, it's not that much meat to get rid of...